Lil' Somethings and Loads of Nothings
by deenie.92
Summary: Trunks lives in a big world where he sticks out like the purple sore thumb he is and so he has many MANY questions...but no answers...but with each witty, personal or simply random curiosity Trunks turns to the one man he believes had all the answers..DAD
1. Chapter 1: Short Stuff

Lil' Something's and Loads of Nothing's

"My Dad Is The Bestest Coolest Dad There Ever Was And Don't You Forget It"

- Trunks

**I**

_Drip…drip…drip…_

_He had never heard anything that sounded more threatening in his life._

_Drip…drip…drip…_

_It just wouldn't stop. And at the rate this was going the kitchen would be flooded soon enough…flooded by the big white dripping monster..._

_CREAK…_

_Oh…this was it! Someone was coming downstairs…and with his luck it'd be the blue haired femme fatale with a deathly temper…oh Kami…somebody help me!!!_

_**---**_

Trunks stood, shivering from head to toe in his teddy bear pajamas staring down at the dripping puddle of milk that was spreading out on to the kitchen tiles from the tipped over carton on the counter and he was scared…more like frightened…perpetually terrified…as terrified as any ten year old boy would be of facing wrath from the one woman who could strike such feelings into any man's heart…his mother.

The footsteps grew louder and Trunks realized that the moment of truth had come, that it was over and that his mother was probably already at the kitchen door, ready to push it open, having no idea of the mess she would face once she came in.

The door flung itself open and Trunks squeezed his eyes, shut, getting ready for the scolding, for the huge lecture and the screaming coupled with it. His hands bunched into two determined fists as he got ready to face his mother, reminding himself that no matter what he was NOT, repeat NOT , going to cry when the disciplining would come. He would take it. Take it all just like he'd been taught because, like his mother had always told him, there was no use crying over spilt milk, no pun intended.

He waited. And waited. And waited. Till finally…it came…

"What ARE you doing boy?"

Trunks opened up one eye at the voice for it wasn't his mothers. No way. It was definitely not. That voice was not his mothers. And those WORDS were definitely not his mothers.

"Ugh…hi…Dad…"

Obviously, who else could it have been? Trunks was so used to the way he would address him, always 'the boy', never really 'Trunks', but he didn't mind it to much. He liked 'boy' better than 'baby boy', that was for sure! He looked up to face the critical gaze those black eyes would always pierce through him and like always he would accept it without question, this was after all his idol standing before him, the man he looked up to, followed, imitated, and wished to be like in every way possible. This was his Dad.

His Dad. Wow. Not every boy could say that there Dad was this cool. Because Trunks knew it as well as he knew the fact that he had purple hair. His Dad was COOL. How could he not be? He was universally royalty. That had to mean something in the world of total coolness, and it truly did, in the little ten-year-old's mind anyway.

"I asked what you're doing. What is that mess?"

His Dad was clearly ticked off at him, but whether it was because of the mess or simply because he wasn't answering properly Trunks had no idea. Maybe his Dad was just always ticked. It nearly ALWAYS seemed that way. He wished he could manage to stay always ticked like that. If it made him one step closer to being like his Dad…?

"Ugh…I was just getting the milk…I was thirsty see…"

"So…what? You decided to take a swim in it?"

Was that anger or humor in his voice? Maybe a bit of both. Trunks wasn't sure but a lot of stuff his Dad did he wasn't sure of and so he just went with the flow.

"I wish," He was trying to sound casual. It kind of came out in a really pathetic squeak that he knew his Dad was scoffing about in his mind and that didn't help at all. "I just wanted to pour the milk…but…"

Now what? He knew exactly why he couldn't pour the milk but the reason wasn't good enough. His Dad would be furious if he heard the excuse because if there was one thing Trunks knew well about his father it was that his father HATED lame excuses and this one was so high on the lame factor, Trunks literally felt suffocated, totally trapped. Dead.

"I guess I just got clumsy Dad"

"Typical. Get yourself shaped up boy or you won't get anywhere in life. Being clumsy. That's a pathetic human state. You're not a disabled earthling. You have Saiyan blood flowing in you. Stop acting like a dunce and prove that you aren't just another regular earthling brat"

Was his Dad being extra harsh today or extra lenient? At this point Trunks really had lost the ability to measure this; everything his Dad normally said to him sounded harsh so it didn't really matter anyway.

"Okay Dad…Sorry…"

Whether he heard that or no, his father didn't show because he'd already gotten what he'd come for in the kitchen, a glass of water, and then disappeared through the back entrance in the kitchen.

'Probably to the gravity chamber' Trunks thought, his mind spinning. His Dad could actually defy gravity and that wasn't even the most awesome of all his powers. His Dad was just about indestructible and undefeated and probably the coolest living being in the universe. He wished he could defy gravity the way his Dad could but he was still at the basics of his father's grueling training program. He'd have to wait, his father had said, before he could make it to the top and actually achieve anything.

"Oh man!"

The milk was still spilt and he had to wipe it away as quick as possible and so Trunks shrugged and dragged himself over to the cupboard under the stairs, hoping to maybe find a mop in there…

**---**

Vegeta was putting all his efforts into his training, fighting and successfully pummeling the robotic drones Bulma had spent hours on, in mere seconds, in the comforts of the gravity chamber. Training. That was his sole purpose for existence at times. Sure, he HAD a family and no matter how hard he tried to avoid expressing it out loud, he was FOND of them, but that didn't mean he didn't have priorities. Family was one thing but training was something else entirely. Suddenly his mind switched over to another subject altogether and all of a sudden he saw the familiar face of a certain little boy. Purple hair and all. He tried to shrug the thought away but due to some unexplainable phenomena, that face remained securely tucked in his mind and he decided he might as well check up on the real thing.

Looking over his shoulder he was able to see the struggling boy attempt to walk around the gravity chamber without getting glued to the spot and realized that at this point it could take months before they actually got somewhere with increasing his stamina.

"Pull yourself together boy" he yelled across the room and received a very forced and exhausted nod in return. Vegeta wasn't sure whether he found the unfolding scene humorous or pathetic but one thing was for sure: this wasn't going to interfere with his training.

"Turn over the switch higher while you're over there at the panel. At least then you might be a bit useful!"

That was harsh he had to admit to himself and for a second a bit of parental concern consumed him. Trunks was after all trying his best and he could at least TRY to be an encouraging father and try to boost up his son's confidence. Wasn't that what the woman was always yelling at him about? Boosting up their son's confidence?

He tried to compare Kakarot's handling of his two sons. The eldest had proven a miniscule portion of his worth and yet Kakarot was lenient and the youngest was nowhere near the caliber of Trunks and yet Kakarot didn't persist with forcing his son to train. It could also be because unlike Bulma, Kakarot's mate wasn't exactly FOR training those brats but nevertheless, Kakarot was a highly beloved father in that household.

Then again, Trunks needed a bit of reprimanding. The woman WAS always bestowing endless love and compassion on the boy, spoiling the brat rotten and that was why, during these training sessions Trunks did need to be reminded that not everything was as easy as asking Mommy for a bit of assistance. Convinced that what he was doing was probably for the best anyway Vegeta glanced in Trunks direction once more and couldn't believe how low his son had stooped for there stood the boy, dancing about on his tip toes, his fingers wiggling just out of reach of the power switch of the panel. Trunks had gone as purple as his hair in the face, sweating from head to toe, trying ever so hard to flick the switch but he simply couldn't and it was for one and simply one reason; a reason he was thoroughly ashamed of ever admitting to anyone, least his father: he was TOO short.

**---**

"What the HELL boy? Just flick the damn thing!"  
Poor Trunks felt his heart beat grow faster, much too fast, for a ten-year-old anyway and he wasn't sure how much more he could possibly take with all the pressure. He was only ten and no matter how much his father wanted him to, at that moment he simply could not flick that switch. He wished now that his mother was there because she would have at least understood his little dilemma. Not that he would ever actually tell her he was worried about his height, because that, he knew, was weak, and that was another thing his father really hated alongside excuses: weakness. "Come on…come ON!!!" he muttered to himself, trying ever so hard to reach the switch but nothing would make his toes balance up higher, nothing was helping and eventually he would have to give up and then his father would really give it to him

**---**

Vegeta really couldn't believe what he was seeing. His son was definitely loosing this battle, end of story. He could pretty much guarantee that Trunks was not going to reach that switch and that was that. Trunks was simply to, and here he grimaced, short. And yet, here was his son, refusing to give up, even when all odds were against him, even when he knew he was going to lose he refused to back down, refused to turn away and claim defeat, no. He kept on persisting, kept on extending his fingers further, kept on hopping on his toes, biting his lip, eyes stretching out to the whites as he kept on attempting the impossible. Yes, he looked incredibly prissy at that moment, like a badly composed ballerina, scratch the tutu but, for once, Vegeta was able to over look the lack of presentation and was able to see through, into the efforts of his son.

**---**

Trunks wanted to do one thing at that moment and if things kept looking as bad as they were he was sure he might actually do it, regardless of whether his father saw him or not. Trunks was 100% sure he was going to burst into a fitful of tears right that second if a miracle didn't occur and it didn't look as if one would. He still couldn't reach that stupid switch that was causing all his problems and he almost felt as if he was going to blackout. Already the symptoms had started because he couldn't even hear his father yelling at him anymore.

**---**

Vegeta extended an arm over Trunks' head, completely ignoring the boy for the moment and briskly pulled a switch, but not the one to increase the power and gravity capability. The gravity machine slowly began to loose power and after a few seconds of making quite a few irritating mechanic noises, buzzing and whatnot, it managed to shut itself off. Vegeta let go of the switch and gazed down at his son with a rather plain expression and in return received a rather plain expression back.

**---**

'Something's really wrong…Dad must be really angry…'

Trunks fiddled about with his bowl of cereal, poking it with his spoon, he wasn't really feeling all that hungry, his stomach was actually making him feel like throwing up and so he just continued fiddling about.

"Don't play with your food…you know it irritates your mother"

Trunks immediately dropped the spoon in his cereal bowl, causing his father's eyes to widen just a bit, and just stared into the milky consistency, wondering what his Dad was thinking at that moment, sitting across from him at the breakfast table, a whole half hour earlier than they normally had there always silent breakfast together for training had been brought to a rather early end, due to some rather embarrassing circumstances.

Trunks felt like a complete failure and it was rather a depressing feeling, one he really didn't want to feel but was feeling nevertheless, naturally. And his father's complete silence wasn't helping the matter…that is until…

**---**

"What's bothering you?"

Vegeta had generally just asked this to make effort at some rather hasty conversation but immediately figured out that he had hit the spot because Trunk's head had darted upwards in a flash to look at him, a terrified expression written across his face.

"Nothing…" he muttered a bit to fast.

"Speak up boy. And don't say 'nothing'. Clearly something's bugging you or we wouldn't be lounging around here. We'd be training…"

Trunk's face reddened a bit, indicating that Vegeta was getting much closer to the problem and he only needed to persist a bit more.

"Spit it out boy…I'm not letting you go easy this time…"

"It's nothing really Dad…I just messed up a bit…"

"I can see that…I'm not blind Trunks…I want to know why you messed up?"

Maybe it was the tone Vegeta had used, maybe the fact that he had used his son's name rather than the forever used proverb or maybe it was because Trunk's was at a bursting point, but the point is, he finally decided to give in.

"Dad…I'm kind of…kind of…Dad…I can't do anything right…"

"And am I ever going to find out why you're such a failure at everything you attempt…or why you believe this anyway?"

"The thing is Dad…I'm kind of…well…kind of…"

**---**

"-short Dad…I'm short…"

Trunks wondered with mixed curiosity and fear what his father would say to this and waited for something to happen, something to occur, something that he hoped wouldn't involve extra training as a punishment for being weak…he didn't get his hopes too high…

**---**

"Short?"

Vegeta echoed the word as if it was alien but since he was an alien to it was oh so familiar to him. So this was what the entire issue was about: being short. Trunks was upset because he was short and thus this was getting in the way of everything, fogging up his focus, distracting him and leaving him useless in many areas. The incident with the spilt milk now became much more understandable. Trunks simply couldn't reach the milk carton and that's why he had accidentally sent it cascading along the side of the counter, creating and indoor milk fall…manmade causes purely. So short was Trunks he couldn't reach the switch on the panel he had been desperately trying to reach and Vegeta suddenly realized what exactly had been going on.

He had after all suffered the same fate at his own son's age…except this time; his son would have a better mentor…one who would bring him up…not keep him down at a lowly height….

Trunks twiddled his fingers a bit, his face flushing deeply as he waited eagerly yet patiently for his father's response, not knowing what to expect at all and thus he was shocked alert when his father spoke up.

"Stop twiddling your fingers…it looks prissy…"

Vegeta couldn't believe how much control he held over the little boy that sat before him but apparently he held quite a lot because the boy looked practically electrocuted every time he spoke up.

Such obedience, which had before made him feel superior and pleased with himself, now made him feel rather disgusted with himself for making his son so afraid of his own father. He immediately set to attempting to lower his voice a bit, knowing he wasn't about to do this every day so he might as well make the best of this moment.

"Trunks…you aren't short…"

Brilliant beginning he thought to himself with some congratulations. Now, how to go on about it?

"You're only a child right now…you will grow…"

Wow. He was actually pretty good with this consoling rubbish the woman was always protesting for him to get into. He could somehow see why she found fancy to it. But not THAT much. Maybe just a one time thing, though.

**---**

Trunks looked completely disbelieving of all of this, taking it all in, but not understanding a word.

"The thing is Trunks…you will grow…it will take a while but you will…I did…and I used to be extremely short…"

Here he struggled with his words. His height had always been a rather sensitive topic he absolutely loathed broaching and normally he avoided it completely. But this time, all it took was one look at his distressed son to continue.

"I was extremely short boy…and believe it or not…I am still VERY SHORT…"

Trunks mouth hung open in shock at hearing these words. His father was ACTAULLY agreeing to a physical flaw of his own, and he was being rather calm about it, which was most surprising. Trunks couldn't…no…wouldn't…believe his own ears…

"Dad! You're not SHORT! You're SO TALL!!!"  
As if to emphasize his point Trunks sat up in his chair and raised his arm to measure height. Across from his Dad smirked over at him, and this seemed to encourage Trunks in the slightest.

"You would think so…that I'm quite tall…that is because you are shorter than me and thus looking up you see a very tall person. But believe me Trunks…I'm much shorter than someone my age should be…my growth spurt apparently refused to kick in…" he sounded bitter but Trunks refused to back down.

"But Dad…if I'm shorter than you then I really AM short…"

Vegeta winced at this comment, it was becoming slightly personal in his point of view, but then again, wasn't everything with his son a bit personal.

"Trunks…you are just a child. You'll see…eventually, if you keep up regular training when I tell you to and eat whatever the heck your mother puts on your plate without fussing about it like a baby then you'll get your growth spurt and get taller. Who knows? You might even get taller than me…but you'll have to work at it…"

It was a clear challenge in his voice and Trunks eyes seemed to brighten at the prospect.

"Taller than YOU!?!?!"  
"No son of the Prince of all Saiyans is going to stay a shrimp. You have to earn your right to stand tall…you will grow Trunks but even if you aren't the tallest being in the universe remember…as long as you keep your dignity and your pride…you can be as tall as you want…but you have to work at it and stop lounging about…wasting your time…"

**---**

Trunks could feel his heart swell up within his chest. His Dad was ACTUALLY giving him encouragement and Trunks couldn't help but feel that this was a first in his lifetime. Sure, his father hadn't actually begun a whole cheering session because once he had spoken over the subject he had resumed back to eating and had not spoken a word throughout the breakfast experience. Yet, Trunks somehow felt that the conversation he had just had with his Dad was worth a million words and one step closer to being like his Dad, the best Dad in the world. For now, he'd just hand his dishes over to his father who was putting them in the sink, just in case Mommy came in and found the table trashed. No matter how tall he got, his mother would always tower over him. His Dad proved that fact every single day by doing something or the other…

**---**

Bulma stepped into the kitchen, clutching the paper bags piled with groceries tightly and nearly fainted at the adorable sight that was set before her; one in which her husband was holding their still young and short son up to the sink so that he could put his dishes in without causing catastrophic disaster.

"Wow. Washing dishes? And how are my two little men today?" she announced to the heavens in a cheery voice and couldn't believe the sudden and deathly glares she received in return for the greeting.

"We-are-NOT-little"

And together in unison the father-son duo paraded out of the kitchen, off to the gravity chamber, leaving Bulma standing rather dumbstruck in the kitchen. But only for a few seconds when suddenly a purple haired blur ran back into the kitchen, gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Tell you later" and then torpedoing right back out.

"Well…wonder what those two were up to…"


	2. Chapter 2: Purple is the new black?

Lil' something's and loads of nothing's

"My Dad Is The Bestest Coolest Dad There Ever Was And Don't You Forget It"

- Trunks

**II**

_Flip…flip…flip…_

_He had never experienced something more irritating in his life…_

_Flip…flip…flip…_

_It just wouldn't stop. And at the rate this was going he would be blind soon enough…blinded by black inky drops that were sliding down…_

_Snip…_

_Oh…this was it! He'd messed up now…maybe it wasn't such a good idea…maybe it was because the color was to bright…it might have been bearable if it was something else…but no…it had to be such a horrendous hue!!!_

---

Trunks took an exaggerated step back to get a closer at his looming reflection in the single rimmed mirror of his kiddy bathroom, balancing atop the closed toilet seat so he could get a clearer and more visible view of his head, and nearly slipped to his impending doom of a crash on the bathroom floor. It wasn't because he was clumsy or something as far-fetched as that he had convinced himself, only that he was finding it a tad bit difficult to function around in the cramped up bathroom, what, with the black goop trailing all over his face, getting into his eyes, stinging them. He'd wash it off but that would render his little experiment pointless as it was crucial he saw what results he'd achieved.

"They should make bathrooms more open…what moron decided on making it so…cramped!" he muttered out loud to no one in particular as he put his arms forward to balance on the sink basin, his legs extended back to the toilet seat still, sweat beginning to dot his forehead, mixing in with the inky consistency.

If his Dad found him at this moment, god forbid, he'd bring the house down, not to mention, the rest of the planet along with him, and maybe even take a few galaxies for a ride to. But if his mother found him…it would be even worse…that was no secret…she was the real threat held in the household and only her husband and son knew exactly how dangerous she could be if swayed in the wrong direction.

Of course, he couldn't complain since he'd seen how his best friend's mom got all riled up and made him wince to think of what TORTURE Goten must go through sometimes, what, with all that math he got piled up on his plate and not to mention, the frying pan. Goten never even did much, nothing like what he was doing at that moment, and yet he got into so many scraps he was nearly always getting punished for doing something or the other, normally something he led Goten into doing.

Suddenly, a worrying thought crossed Trunks mind and nearly made him topple forward so he had to tighten his grip on the basin. Goten got punished for little stunts so how badly would HE get grounded for doing what he was? This stunt had hit an all time blow of all the awful and terrible tings he'd done so far in his life span of a decade, a born trouble maker. This was something even his somewhat lenient mother would not be able to ignore and she would really blow a casket if she saw the damage he's created, possibly making ChiChi look tame in the face of delinquent children running wild.

'Can't back down now Trunks…too late'

Because backing down was a weak and spineless thing to do in the words of his Dad and according to Trunks, his Dad's word was law and that was that. Pointblank. End of story. Full stop. Period.

His Dad always said, if you've started something, no matter what, whether the cards dealt to you are for better or for worse, you went with them, and finished whatever you started, no matter how bad the consequences. The ends always justified the means was also something else his Dad kept emphasizing on, though normally this was about sparring and other fighting occurrences, when he had to practice and adjust to new techniques. He highly doubted his Dad meant applying this to experimentation of physical features but then again, who was he to question the law laid down, and with that decided firmly in his head, Trunks decided he wasn't going to be a rule breaker, no matter what.

He had no right to take second guesses with the authority of his Dad.

'I wish I could be like him. Dad would've done this right'

His Dad was so cool about everything. He'd faced so much, all sorts of nasty things like giant creepy lizards and cuts without band aids and even having to eat raw food without having a Mom to cook it up for him so why couldn't he just be like his Dad and not freak about it. His Dad had just taken all the horrible stuff life had thrown at him and punched it back with total and pure "awesomeness", a word reserved only for Vegeta in his rather extended and completely self-made vocabulary.

Balancing on his short little arms, wobbling about a bit but gaining control, he tried to gaze up into the mirror, little puddles of black forming on the tiles below him, looking threatening, like miniature black holes.

He could see the brim of a bit of his hair, coated in a sticky acrid substance and a bit of his forehead splattered with black splats. A little further and he would have it.

"Boy…where are you…!?!"

His hand slid off in shock and Trunks crashed head first to the ground with a blood curling shriek, landing with a nasty crack while the door handle was fiddled with, nudged and eventually beaten and blasted from the outside.

"What the blazes is going on in there?"

Sitting up, feeling rather sickly, he felt about his head and eventually came to the terrain of scalp where a bruise had risen and it ached like nothing before and he couldn't help but wince as the tears began to outline the edges of his eyes and he struggled to blink them back.

"Dammit Trunks! Open this DOOR!!!"

Eyes wild with fear, black goop dripping of his hair and all over the floor his head whipped around for something…something to cover him…before his Dad managed to get in…

---

Vegeta was pretty pissed off as he stood impatiently in front of the bathroom door of his one and only offspring ad couldn't for the life of him understand what that boy could possibly be doing in there that could be taking so long and was at a point where he wasn't even sure he wanted to know. Nevertheless, he pushed down on the doorknob was such force that it was beginning to crack around the edges. Of course, it wouldn't have taken any effort for him to simply yank the thing off and break the door down to barge in but the woman had been getting ticked off with the regular bill of doorknobs, as well as doors, and she hadn't exactly been very sympathetic over the door opening issues and had requested, not very quietly either, that he not go around breaking doors and their extensions.

'Why doesn't she just get NORMAL doorknobs that DON'T get stuck half way? And what sane person goes around putting locks on their doors with a brat in the house? It's as if she wants him to go ahead and do something stupid like lock himself in!!!' he thought to himself warily, his exasperation growing, as he banged against the door, waiting for some force to open it before he had to resort to drastic measures. His wife didn't terrify him that much.

And then the force occurred and the door was unlocked and opened a crack as a small head poked out, wrapped all over the top with a RIDICULOUS fuchsia colored towel.

"Ughhhhh…Hi Dad"

"WHAT THE H.F.I.L IS THAT???"

Trunks brought a protective hand up to his head, fingered the soft of the towel, and a sense of relief seemed to wash over his face at the realization.

"Ughhhh…it's just a…towel…"

"WHY is it such a preposterous color? Boy, is something up?"

"N..n…nothing's up…Dad…there just wasn't…any other towel…Dad…"

"WHAT is going on boy? What are you doing in there?"

"Ughhh …I was…ughhhh…taking a shower!"

"At 3am in the morning?"

"Yeeeeaaaah…it's…refreshing…?"

"Have you completely lost your mind or was it never there in the first place???"

"…ugggghhhh…"

"Can't you answer a simple question…?"

"Ugggghhhh…"

"Alright…that's it…"

Vegeta began to push hard on the door, fighting against his son to open it up, forgetting for a minute that he happened to be a full fledged omni-powerful Saiyan and this was just his tiny half blooded Saiyan son and therefore, the battle was already won.

The door immediately flew open on it's hinges and went crashing into the wall, while sending Trunks flying across the bathroom and crashing straight into the bathtub, the shower curtain coming off it's hinges and falling atop him while the plaster cracked of the walls and the door creaked and tipped a bit.

Not caring a bit about the injury done to his son, far be it he should concern himself with the destruction done towards a measly bathroom, he trudged in with a huff and felt his feet grow cold s he stepped straight into a nasty black puddle of goop and slipped…

---

"TRUNKS!!! WHAT IS THIS STUFF!?!?!?"

Trunks sat up in the bathtub, wrapped up toga style in his under the sea fishy shower curtain, the stained black fuchsia towel coming undone and slipping off, revealing tufts of black with just specks of purple visible underneath, to find his father on the floor. He had this expression of pure disgust written straight across his face from where he had fallen, the one Trunks himself had tried several times to imitate in front of the mirror but never really succeeding in copying it just right; he just looked like he'd bit his tongue to hard, not like he was mad or anything.

"Ughhh…it's…ink…" he answered, not really trusting himself as his Dad gave him the evileye from down below.

"Ink?!?!"

"Yeah…black ink…with…ummm…super glue…and…Mom's herbal shampoo…mixed…in it…"

It sounded absolutely ridiculous when he said it like that but he didn't think it had been SUCH a bad idea! In fact, if he could explain himself he was sure his Dad would get it since after all, his Dad was a prince so maybe he had an open mind on this type of stuff, because if you have to rule a planet, you have to be open minded, right? But as Trunks gazed down at the man sprawled on the floor, he highly doubted his Dad had any room in his mind to be open at that particular moment.

Pushing up of the ground, Vegeta felt very vexed and purely irritated as he picked himself up, preparing himself on ways to hold back his urge to murder the child sitting in the bathtub and wondering how much power he had over himself at the moment.

Whatever the nasty black stuff was- oh, wait! The brat had already told him; black ink, the stuff that never stops sticking and the woman's nasty smelling herbal crap- it was staining him all over with little splats and spots including the mass all over his face, dripping off like crazy. He even had some of the gunk in his hair and it felt so ferociously disgusting he wasn't sure how much longer he could take!

"TRUNKS!!!"

Getting to his feet in a flash he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly cried out loud at the black mask that had rounded itself around his eyes like a psycho panda gone wrong, before turning towards the cowering boy, who was trying to untangle himself out of the shower curtain.

---

Trunks didn't need a second warning and as soon as he had writhed himself free, a lot or squirming involved, he leapt out of the tub and made a dive for the door, just barely dodging his Dad in the process. Tearing down the hallway, he turned to see his father chasing after him, looking like road kill, murder gleaming in his eyes.

Using all the knowledge he had of his house, all the shortcuts and other routes he used when sneaking in and out, he dived into one of the lower ventilation shafts, leaving a nice clear trail of black stains behind him while he crawled on.

---

'The woman is going to blow her head off!!!' Vegeta thought to himself as he followed the give away line of black gunk and saw the ventilation shaft's grills pulled open, hearing the thuds and clambering of Trunks crawling about inside. Not thinking for even a second, he dared to get down on his knees and fit himself in, pushing hard and realizing, when he couldn't get past his waist, that he was probably a bit to big and probably stuck in quite tight.

"That boy is going to have hell to pay!!!"

---

Trunks escaped from the other end of the ventilation system, trying to ignore the excessive amount of explicit vocabulary echoing about from inside, obviously the wonderful work of his Dad, and jumped down into the kitchen, hiding straight under the kitchen table, using the table cloth as a cover while he waited, resisting the temptation to begin sucking his thumb.

Waiting and waiting, he wasn't sure how long the minutes were taking, and as he pulled the fuchsia towel down over his hair once again, making sure it didn't slip off he panicked as he noticed the black puddles around him.

'Why'd I do it??? Man! I had to go and try and dye my hair!!! WHY???"

However, before he could answer that question he heard heavy footsteps and realized that someone had freed themselves from the air ventilation system.

---

Vegeta glared from right to left around the kitchen, rubbing his hands around his rear to soothe the pain while his face went shocking red from humiliation. He had all sorts of ideas prepared on what he was going to do to the little brat once he got a hold of him but his main concern at the moment was what the woman was going to do to him when she saw all that black around her perfect house. She would of course, never blame her wondrous baby, Vegeta pondered with some disgust, wondering, not for the first time, how he managed to get himself into these things, when he heard a soft dripping sound coming from under the table.

Suspicious he began to lean down, and instantly found Trunks crouched under there, towel and all and completely lost all senses as he pounced forward.

---

Letting out a blood curling scream that would take years to be rivaled Trunks managed to duck out of the way as his Dad lunged towards him and collided instead with the floor before trying to stand up and hitting the top of his head on the table. Not waiting to see how this would improve his mood he ran off towards the next location that came around the corner, the ever popular gravity room and entered tripping in and smashing straight into the control panel, setting the machine on maximum overdrive, messing the entire system up.

---

He was absolutely sure he was going to have a concussion at any given second but kept fighting with himself to heave off and stop being such a weakling. Nevertheless, his head was aching from repetitively banging it and he was actually surprised he hadn't cracked his skull open yet, even if he was a Saiyan. Getting to his feet, this time making sure he was a good few feet away from the table he shook his head clear before darting around to where the boy could have ran off next and heard the low humming of the gravity chamber. Taking off at the speed of light, Vegeta came clambering in the gravity room to find the towel practically glued to the floor and Trunks lying some distance away from it, glued to the floor, eyes popping out as his expression showed immense pain and horror. And a sense of complete hell torn worry consumed Vegeta, one of parental concern as he forgot his many numerous bumps and scars and went to rescue his son from gravity over load.

---

'I am so busted…'

Trunks sat on the floor of the gravity chamber, crossed legged across from his Dad while he tried to get over the woozy sensation he kept having after being pulled down by such an immense force of gravity. His Dad had one of his hands on the top of his head and was slowly rotating it about, observing his hair and the miraculous change at all angles with much concentration and focus. It was still dripping but not as much as before and though Trunks had quite a lot of black marks all over him he was as white as a sheet compared to the mess done all over his father.

"Boy…" he announced at long last and Trunks immediately sprung to attention as his Dad looked down at him, and he couldn't help but notice the amusement sparkling in his black eyes. "What exactly were you trying to do here…?"

Knowing he had no other outlet he opened his mouth to answer...

---

"I was trying…to dye my hair black…"

Given the answer to his question Vegeta found himself not to alarmed since that much had seemed pretty obvious to him.

"I can see that…" he responded, "and you've done a hell of a messed up job here to your credit…what I want to know is what provoked you to go ahead and do a stupid thing like that and what, on this damned planet, gave you the idea that ink, super glue and your mother's stuff would help in any way?"

Glaring down he couldn't believe it when he saw that his son's cheeks had actually COLORED, and quite deeply by the looks of it and he nearly found himself laughing at the hold situation and issued heavy self control not to do so. He had to at least appear as if he was in control at the moment.

"Well…go on…why?"

Trunks wasn't answering and it was beginning to get on his nerves severely so that he actually began tightening his grip on the boy's head, not to the extent of painful but to a point of force to order his son into spilling out the truth.

---

His Dad was insanely pressurizing on his head without realizing it and Trunks decided to give in and just tell the truth.

"Come off it Dad…that bugs!!!" he whined, picking at his Dad's much larger hand.

"First tell me why you went and turned your head black!!!"

"It's real stupid Dad"

"I don't care…"

"Dad!!!"

"Trunks…"

Hesitating her decided that their little argument was leaving them with no choice.

"Fine…I dyed my hair…because…I didn't like it purple…I wanted to make it black…like…yours…"

And just like that, all the pressure suddenly vanished, simply leaving his Dad's hand resting on his head.

---

Vegeta couldn't believe what he had just heard. His son had gone and dyed his purple hair black with that ridiculous concoction just so he could be like him, his father. Looking down at the tiny boy he couldn't believe the trouble the squirt had gone to and as he fingered those now black locks he realized he had really missed out on the whole fatherly experience, had missed out on what the woman and Kakarot had been going on about this whole time and he had REALLY missed out on the purple hair.

"Trunks…you…don't have to have hair like mine…you're already my son…that should be enough…"

---

Trunks sighed out loud, because clearly he needed to explain the picture.

"But Dad! Your hair is so cool!!! It's black and it sticks out on the top of your head…"

His Dad's free hand suddenly went to pat down his hair defensively but Trunks went on anyway.

"It's SO awesome!!! Dad…my hair is PURPLE!!! I wanted cool hair like yours…what's the matter with that…?"

"What's the matter with purple?"

"Dad…who HAS purple hair? It makes me look funny. It looks weird…no one has purple hair…!!!"

"Then isn't it cool to have it…no one else does…it's just yours…"

"Huh?"

---

Vegeta wasn't sure exactly how to go about this since it was becoming very difficult to convince the boy out of this notion that his purple hair was acceptable and that dying it black was not.

"Now listen to me boy…just because it's different doesn't make it weird. You should be proud you have…or at least HAD…purple hair. Do you see a single puny earthling with purple hair? Of course not. You aren't one of them…you're special…and your purple hair shows that!"

"How come you don't have purple hair?"

"Because my mother didn't have blue hair like yours does. Look at her. No one else had blue hair but she went ahead and kept it! She didn't go and dye it some boring black or blonde! She kept her blue and that's why you have your purple hair…"

---

Trunks had never actually listened to his Dad talk about his Mom before and frankly it was kind of strange the way he went all soft and sounded completely different whenever he did. It made him think twice about what exactly there was between his two parents, but he went on with his argument, not thoroughly convinced just yet.

"But Dad…people are going to think I'm weird with purple hair…no one will like me…"

"Did people think your mother was weird? No. Plenty of people like her…don't they?"

"Do YOU like her…?"

---

Vegeta found himself startled by the sudden shock of the question and felt the heat growing as it rushed to his cheeks and immediately felt flustered by the whole incident.

"That's none of your concern but I'll have you know I PREFER her with blue hair rather than any other outrageous color! You're a Saiyan! A Saiyan is never ashamed of how they look! That's a very petty and vain concern that makes you weak. As long as you look presentable that should be enough! Now, I never want to see your face with your hair any color but purple…you understand? I prefer purple on YOU!"

"Okay…I guess…if you think its okay…"

"I think it's just fine and that's final!"

"Alright!"

"One other thing…what exactly were you thinking putting all that trash in when your were making the dye?"

"Oh…that's easy Dad! I put black ink to make my hair black, super glue to make the color stick to my hair and Mom's shampoo because…well…you put shampoo in your hair…right?"

---

Bulma stretched out far once again as she made her way down the corridor and right about halfway she swore she could hear running water coming from Trunk's bathroom.

'What on earth could he be doing this early in the morning?'

Ambling in her night gown in a rather dazed motion she entered his toy littered bedroom and stalked off into the brightly lit bathroom with a broken door on its hinges, torn off shower curtain and puddles of black all over but that wasn't what caught her breath.

What did was the sight of her extra cheery son sitting in the middle of the bathtub in an explosion of steam erupting from the full on shower while her black inky faced husband scrubbed as ferociously as possible at her son's hair, armed with bottles of shampoo alone.

"Well, well…what is going on here boys?"

"Dad's just trying to get rid of all the black dye I put in my hair because I didn't like it purple…but don't worry, I like it purple now because Dad likes it purple. Just like Dad likes yours bl-"

Unfortunately he didn't have time to finish as Vegeta blocked his mouth by stuffing a sponge into it…


End file.
